Twisted Memories
by wittyness
Summary: Dante learned a long time ago, that reincarnation was an imperfect cruelty placed on his life to make him suffer. Warnings: The usual, strong language, Dante, Nero, Human!AU.
1. Prologue

Hey guys I'm back and with a new story

Dante learned a long time ago, that reincarnation was an imperfect cruelty placed on his life to make him suffer.

He'd spent most of his childhood sulking in the shadow of his former self, because he knew things, people, places, events, shit that never happened to him before. He'd had his first memory at age five, sitting at the head of his dinner table at his own birthday party, lights dimmed down low and children all gathered around in excitement.

It was the very moment that the candles were lit that the whole room disappeared around him and suddenly he was somewhere else, running down a burning hallway, biting down on his lip hard because his ankle was practically snapped in half. Then suddenly he was back in the room, his mother standing over him screaming, telling him to answer her. And the lights were back on and he had somehow landed on the floor, nose bleeding rapidly.

After that, memories would be triggered one by one at the weirdest of times. He'd gone to every doctor, every shrink on this side of the world and back. Yet nobody could figure out what was wrong with the boy that was spontaneously passing out and having weird dreams. Nightmares. But, Dante knew. He knew.

And, from ages ten to thirteen, he tried to tell his parents, tried to convince them that he had been somebody else in a different lifetime, a shadow of himself. His parents wouldn't hear it though; they told him time and time again that his imagination runs away with him. His mother often laughed it off, posing a fake smile and patting him on the back. His father…well, he just ignored the nonsense all together. At age thirteen he over heard his parents one summer night, talking about sending Dante some place to 'get help.' After that, he stopped trying to convince everybody.

Actually, he stopped talking about it all altogether.

It wasn't until age sixteen when everything started to resurface again, by then, he knew a lot about his other shadow and he'd become used to reliving the harsh memories.

But then, he saw him.

He walked right into Dante's French class and nervously shuffled from foot to foot when the teacher announced his name.

Nero.

He remembered him. His shadow remembered him. They'd known each other, ran around in hard plated masks together, spray painted over restriction signs and left a rose on every planted bomb. And just by the way Nero's gray eyes widened upon seeing Dante, he knew that Nero remembered him as well.

After that, the loneliness didn't seem as deafening. He finally had somebody to talk with, somebody that didn't think he was utterly fucking crazy. The two of them became instant friends, reincarnation has a way of bonding people, he supposed. And they discussed memories for endless hours and what it was like growing up knowing the things they did.

Nero told him that reincarnation worked differently for everyone (those that happen to be chosen in a specific lifetime, that is.) He ran into another from their shadowed lives, Virgil, who said he knew the truth pretty much his entire life, it was always simply…there and he wasn't hit with painful realizations like he and Nero were. But then…there were some that didn't remember at all. And Dante would soon learn how this fact affected him. Because, nobody ever said reincarnation was simple.

Actually, when memories are involved, it can get pretty twisted.


	2. The first meeting didn't go as he hoped

This is very syfy-y because of all the movies and books I've been reading. So, I'm apologizing in advance if this turns out to be terrible.

* * *

Unlike Dante, Nero didn't grow up with twisted memories.

He was a normal kid, with normal parents and normal friends. He got fairly good grades and most of his high school days were spent relaxing with his friends under the summer sun that was that was Limbo City. He liked art and writing—anything that involved creativity—and had gone off to Fortuna University to major in English, live on his own, and maybe go to a party or two. And, really, things were going just as smoothly as he thought they would.

That is, until he was nearly run down by some guy on a motercycle at nine o clock in the morning.

"Watch out!" Nero's eyes darted up from the book he was reading, just barely having enough time to jump to the side, pivot, and land into the nearby bushes.

"Fuck." He groaned, listening as the rouge bike crashed as well. Honestly, Nero thought by walking through a nice peaceful neighborhood, he could avoid incidents like this. Sure, ever since he'd started college he'd learned to adjust to the hectic students, running around campus, balancing a text book in one hand and a coffee in another.

He'd be lying if he said this was the first time he'd been run down. By trampling students or other wise. Everybody out here were always in a hurry; cars were constantly honking viciously at each other, crossing pedestrians jay walking, flipping anybody off that dare threaten to not let them pass. It was all very stressful and Nero opted to avoid dealing with it. Instead, he'd walk to campus, have a book in one hand and stroll through residential areas that were always peaceful this time of day. And yet, he still manages to have a near death experience.

"Hey!" The bicyclist yelled, rushing over to the bush, limping slightly. "Hey, are you okay?"

Nero groaned once again, resisting the urge to say something snarky, because, fuck, what did this guy think? Yeah, it's just everyday that he falls back into a prickly pack of bushes. "Yeah," He grunted, pushing himself up, trying not to stagger and fall back again. "Yeah, I just—" He had to pause, because, whoa, he had turned to the guy and noticed that he was staring at him, like really staring at him. He looked petrified, like he was gonna puke or pass out or maybe a combination of both. His gray-blue eyes swept over Nero from head to toe, looking wider than saucers. Nero nearly thought his expression was cartoon comical.

"It's you," He whispered, taking a step forward, in turn Nero took a step back. "It's really you." The guy laughed, running a hand through his black and white hair as some sort of nervous tick. "I never thought…I…I mean, I hoped, but, well, it's a big fucking world and yet—here you are."

"Um…"

"I knew it, though. I felt that familiar feeling inside of me like something was coming and then I saw you walking and I thought I was fucking hallucinating. That's why I kinda freaked out and almost hit you," Another shaky laugh. "Sorry about that, by the way."

"Um…it's okay…"

"I didn't hurt you did I? Fuck, you know much I hated when you got hurt." The dark haired boy with gray-blue eyes reached forward as if to run his finger along the small cut that had formed on Nero's left cheek.

Said boy jerked back quickly. "Did you…did you hit your head or something?"

"…What?"

"I mean…are you okay…I don't—I don't really…"

Gray-blue eyes widened, looking slightly frantic. "I'm Dante. We…we knew each other. You and me…we were partners. You know…"

"Um…" Again he started to walk back hastily, trying to be ready if this guy decided to start saying he was a fairy and then mug him for all he was worth. Oh fuck, he thought, I'm gonna be robbed by a guy that rides a motercycle. "…I'm sorry; I don't think we've ever met. Maybe you're mistaking me with someone else?"

The guy—Dante—shook his head, even more frantic than before. "Of course not! You…you're hard to forget. C'mon, you gotta remember something. Lady? Virgil? Trish? Chancellor Mundas? The freedom fighters? Any of this ringing any bells?"

"Uh…" Dante threw his hands to the air, groaning in desperation. If Nero wasn't fearing for his life at the moment, he'd probably feel sorry for the guy.

"You…you really don't remember?"

Nero shook his head. "I'm sorry; I hope you find who you're looking for, though." In response, Dante merely scowled.

For a moment, the two of them simply looked at each other. And, for a millisecond, Nero thought that maybe he felt something flicker inside him, something unknown, but it was gone before he could even blink. And after another minute of awkward silence and a…weird staring contest, Dante simply flipped him the bird and stalked off.

Nero, not really used to having somebody hate him so openly, couldn't help the words that spilled out of his mouth. "Are…are you alright?"

Cold gray-blue eyes regarded him with annoyance, hopping onto his scratched bike. "Yeah, just—I think god hates me. That and life's a bitch." And before Nero could be thoroughly confused by his words, the bike was already speeding off into the distance.

That night was the first night that he dreamt of his past life. The first night he dreamed of stormy blue eyes and a blinding white smile.


	3. Dreams and Coffee

Sorry about the wait I was planning my trip to Mexico with my brother. Hope this makes up for it!

* * *

"Where the fuck are we? Are we in fucking Paris?"

Two boys jumped out of their Hollow Pods—devices that were designed to put the participants into a deep, enjoyable slumber while embarking on a long trip. The dials on the side can be set and configured to give their dreams a desired virtual reality. Any common Hollow Pod aboard trains or airplanes (requesting them can get a little pricey since the public supply is limited) had very basic settings, you could choose one of three places, three perfect little worlds that they show you with the on-screen touch pad before you get inside. You can also adjust climate—though most went with tropical weather—and tiny details like your clothing and the time of day.

Dante and Nero, however, had access to a special Hollow Pod, aboard their private plane. It could be configured and changed extensively, if the right person (namely Patty) was free to help. They'd spent the last several hours exploring through San Francisco (in the virtual reality)—admiring the view from the golden gate bridge—and they'd somehow woken up to 80's French pop music blaring loudly through the speakers surrounding them.

The hollow pods were shut off and the reality dissipated, always leaving the users feeling a little dazed and empty. Sometimes, it was like somebody had pulled the ground out from under them, like all the oxygen had left the earth. Because, how much more masochistic can you be, then to get lost in some perfect little blissful world and have to come back to this fucked up one?

And yet, maybe the illusion was worth it. If only for a couple hours.

Two young boys looked over at him and Dante curiously as they exited the plane, yawning. They looked like brothers, twins, with dark hair and curious brown eyes. One had yanked the others hair when he noticed Nero was staring right back at them, causing them both to start fighting and squealing in French as they boarded a nearby plane. His statement was confirmed. "Fuck. We are in Paris. The city of love. Oh, the fucking irony kills me."

"Just because we're in the city of…" Dante grunted, pulling the collar of his coat a little higher, covering the sides of his jaw as they ground together. "Love, doesn't mean we don't have a mission. J.D. wouldn't have sent us here if it wasn't important."

"Oh would you lighten up," Patty came strolling up, throwing both her arms around their necks while grinning broadly. She'd always had this carefree attitude that all of them admired. She was this overgrown kid at heart that actually gave a shit about letting go every once in a while. "Our mission is tomorrow. Tonight, we're free to actually have fun, you know, that thing we used to do as kids, commonly defined as: activities that are enjoyable or amusing…"

"Missions are fun." Nero protested.

"Oh. My bad. I forgot you're totally a buzz kill. But, Dante's on my side, right bud?"

Said man twisted his head to look at the spunky blond. Then he twisted it again to look at the other people, hurriedly bustling off to make their flights, ones that would probably be over crowded and uncomfortable. Each person wore a specific tag on their clothing with a color and serial number, the way each person shows their rank in society varies depending on where you live. Most places put it on your ID but certain places favored cruelty and had you pin it to your clothing so people knew right off the bat. Just another reason Dante was glad to be apart of the Freedom Fighters.

And…maybe the idea of having a little fun did sound somewhat appealing.

"Alright, what did you have in mind?"

"Me? Well, I'm planning on propositioning a few smoking hot French boys. I was just leaving the suggestion open to the two of you, for god sakes, we're in Paris, go live a little. Go eat at some fancy restaurant that serves pig intestines. Go sit at some French café and discuss Monet. Get fucking laid. Because, c'mon, how hot would it be if you were plowing some hot chick and she was moaning 'oui, encore! s'il vous plait!|yes, again! please|'"

Dante gave her an odd look, shaking Patty's arm from around his neck and also shoving her arm from around Nero's neck as well, looking slightly irritated. "You know French?"

"Well…no, not really—"

"Then how the hell do you expect one of them to have sex with you? Got any psychic powers we don't know about, Patty, ol' buddy?"

"I know how to say 'vous êtes belle|you are beautiful|.' The best pick up line of all. That's all I need." Patty started to stroll away from the other two, searching for a restroom with a grin on her face.

Nero looked at Dante with confusion. "What exactly does that mean?"

"She said: You are beautiful." For some odd reason they both stopped when the words spilled from Dante's mouth, looking up at the gloomy sky for a moment, then each other.

Their eyes met on occasion when back at the headquarters. They were sorta best friends, in some mutant form of the word, partners, and out of everybody within their core group, they spent the most time together.

It was weird, they supposed. The circumstances. The trips. The shared hotel rooms that always felt more like home than anywhere else. The sounds of panic and the smell of sulfur, clouding their noses. It was all weird and so were they.

But what they did, now…that wasn't weird at all.

* * *

Nero awoke and it almost felt like he was suffocating.

Holyfuckingshit.

Words wouldn't form in his mouth. Thoughts were practically incoherent. Something about that dream was much too vivid for him to deal with at the moment. And…he dreamed about that boy, the one that nearly ran him over yesterday morning.

He'd seen him on campus…he was in his Art of War class—just transferred. Their eyes had locked, because, sure, he was good looking, but isn't it a little early on for him to be taking up Nero's dreams? The guy practically said how do you do by almost running him down at nine o'clock in the morning, that isn't exactly love at first sight.

Nero rolled over, peering up at his clock through his sweaty golden brown bangs.

5:51.

Jesus. It is way too early for this shit. He doesn't even have a class until eleven. And yet—going back to sleep didn't seem like an option at this point. What he needed right now was a big fat mug of instant goodness, coffee that always tasted better when massive amounts of cream was added. So, that was the only thought that pulled his—still half asleep—body out of bed. The promise of canned foldiers and maybe chocolate biscotti's that Nero knew his roommate Matt kept in the bottom left hand drawer next to the fridge.

Though, that idea died when he found Matt, already awake, sitting at the table, looking interested in the fucking school News Paper. "Is this a sign of the apocalypse? I didn't realize you even knew that time existed before ten o'clock?"

Matt looked up from the paper, minor amusement written across his face. "You're a real comedian, Nero. I'm dying of laughter. I told you yesterday that Jessica wants me to help out at the animal shelter today, thus I have to subject my sleeping schedule. Anyways, I could ask you the same thing."

"I couldn't sleep." Nero vaguely gestured towards Matt's News Paper in mild confusion. "What's with the paper? You don't even like to read the ingredients on the cereal boxes, let alone current events."

"Maybe I'm trying to widen my perspective of the world." Nero gave him a terse look. "Fine. I like to read the comics."

"That's better." He dug through the cabinets, scowling when he couldn't find what he was looking for. "Matt, where's the instant coffee?"

"We're out."

"Pardon? I could've sworn you just said something blasphemous."

"I told you a couple days ago. We're. Out."

Oh no, no, no. That was not okay. The world was messing with him. He just had freaky acid trip dream on less than six hours of sleep and now he was being denied caffeine? He needed stimulations—massive amounts of it or someone was going to feel his wrath.

Nero promptly stalked back to his room and threw some clothes on—some too big concert shirt of some band he's never heard of that he wonders how he obtained in the first place and a pair of ripped jeans because hopefully the rips will distract everybody from the fact that they're clearly unwashed—and ran a hand through his hair, hoping people will think the bed-head look is just him being too cool to care.

Nero slips on shoes—he doesn't notice they're mismatched until he's halfway down the hallway and too lazy to go back—and idly wonders if this is why greasers dressed the way they did. Maybe the entire culture started with one boy waking up, not getting enough sleep and going into school looking like a mess. He also wonders why teenagers think it's cool to look like a mess—he's eighteen and finally in college and he still hasn't figured it out.

Nero managed to make it the few blocks to the nearest Starbucks, looking around to see scattered college kids, sipping coffee, chatting, typing away at their laptops, probably trying to finish last minute assignments. He wishes he could look as calm at six AM but figures it'll never really happen.

"Good morning, sir, what I can I get for you?" The cashier pushed his glasses up, fingers tapping against the counter idly.

"Uh…Grande Mocha."

"That'll be four fifty."

He reached into his pocket with an expression slightly akin to a drug addict jonsing for a fix and—

Fuck. How the fuck could he forget to bring money?! Oh fuck. Fuckityshit. "Uh…"

That's when an arm reached out from behind and slapped a five onto the counter, causing Nero to jump and immediately whip his head around. Why wasn't he surprised to come face to face with Mr. Dream Boy? It's your goddamn fault I'm even up this early to begin with, he thinks bitterly. And of course the guy is grinning, six AM and he's grinning. Nero thinks the world must hate him.

"Hey, you looked like you could use a little help." The cashier took the money and gave fifty cents back, quickly calling out the order to his other coworkers. Nero slid down to the 'pick up' area; scowling, not exactly surprised the guy had followed him. "What, no thank you?"

"Thanks." He says tersely.

"And, are you this grumpy all the time or only early in the morning?"

After the words had spilled out, Nero's mind went haywire for a second; he swore he could smell cheap hotel sheets and fresh croissants.

**"_Are you this grumpy every morning?" _**

**"_Only when I have to wake up at four AM." _**

The boy clutches his head, not even noticing his order was in front of him and almost not caring as he swayed a little dizzily. "…What?"

The guy—Dante, he reminded himself—grabbed the coffee with one hand and ghosted the other over Nero's back worriedly. "Hey…hey, are you okay? You look a little pale, maybe you should sit down."

He nodded as spots of colors splayed across his vision, shakily taking a seat at a nearby unoccupied table. Dante set the coffee down and sat across from him, pulling a water from his book bag and setting it next to the coffee. "This'll probably help."

"…Thanks."

"Yeah, no problem. I used to get…migraines all the time. The water helps." He smiled warmly, leaning back in his chair slightly, relaxed. "Also…I'm sorry about yesterday morning. I…hit my head hard and my mind was a little muddled, I didn't mean to start babbling and freak you out or anything. Then I was mad at myself because I saw you in Professor Keebler's class and I couldn't help but feel we got off on the wrong foot. So, let's start over? I'm Dante, at your service."

"Nero. It's… nice to meet you?"

Dante laughed lightly and Nero couldn't help but feel it was familiar. "It feels weird, huh? That's college for ya. You go from having the same friends all your life—at some point you even forget how you met them in the first place—and then you're so unsure of formalities and how to meet people that it feels strange, huh?"

"Yeah…I guess I'm new to this whole 'striking out on your own' thing, I'm still trying to get used to not having a curfew."

"Ah, wait till your laundry piles up and you realize you actually have to do it yourself."

"Well, that's something to look forward to." The shorter of the two smiled, sipping on his coffee awkwardly, discreetly admiring Dante's gray-bluex eyes.

It felt natural—for whatever reason—but maybe that's how you knew a friendship was starting. He tried to recall how he felt when he met all his closest friends. Then again, when he met them he didn't really think anything past being the first to pull out a kickball from the ball shed and whether or not that day's lunch was edible.

Dante's phone started buzzing and he looked down at it in annoyance, typing on this little keyboard quickly. Then it started buzzing multiple times and he sighed irritably. "I gotta go. I'm supposed to be meeting a friend right now. I guess I'll see you tomorrow at Professor Keebler's class?"

"Yeah," Nero agreed, trying to give a full out smile even though his face muscles were still half asleep. "It was nice to meet you."

"You too. Oh! And I know it's a little soon, but I share a house with a few friends and they're already set on a having a Halloween party. So, if you happen to be free, don't be afraid to swing on by. See you around, mon ange." Nero looked up at the retreating figure in confusion, watching through the front window as he met up with a blond, both smiling cheerily. And the blond snuck a glance in Nero'a direction, lifting his hand in a wave just before Dante dragged him off.

Though, Nero wasn't focused on him, he should be, but he wasn't. No, he was more focused on what an almost perfect stranger had called him. And if his one semester of French in high school had given him anything, he's pretty sure Dante had just called him 'my angel.'

* * *

Nero went through the rest of the day almost systematically, trying to ignore the soft banter from his best friends when they caught a bite to eat.

In fact, most of the noise that day had been droned out. His teachers, his friends, his roommate—who was going on about that girl Jessica he was half in love with.

Nero didn't feel content or at ease that entire day, not until he was able to crawl into his bed and pull the covers up to his chin.


	4. Another Dream

It was like living in a painting, being in Paris, like opening your mouth and an unwanted cliché spilling out.

They happened to end up in some café on some street neither of them could pronounce (or ever even tried to) at some table next to some girl that looked much too entranced with staring off into space.

Everybody was smoking some form of a tobacco—Dante had never seen so many Black and Mild's in his life—or sipping some sort of alcohol. And though the sign outside said 'café' in plain bold letters, he couldn't help but think this place would be more accurately described as…well, he didn't quite have the correct comparison yet. What he did know is that aside from all the people who were half drunk, swaying their shoulders to the person idly playing their guitar just outside the store, nobody was actually drinking coffee. Well, except the girl at the table next to theirs, but she was so intent on staring out into space, the mug was still nearly full.

And then there was Nero and Dante.

"Do people actually drink this crap?" Nero blanched after taking another sip, placing the wide mug down in disgust. "If I wanted to pay seven dollars for something that burned my mouth and then sliced my taste buds open repeatedly, I would've just ordered a shot of patron. At least then I don't have to remember it after."

"That pretty much sums up my theory on why nobody here is actually drinking coffee. Though, I don't know what you're talking about, this shit is like a party in my mouth."

"If by party, you mean somebody just broke your mom's chandelier, hanging from it, then everybody decided it'd be okay to dive into your pool…from the roof, and on top of all that, several people also decided it'd be okay to puke in various places of your living room—then yes, it's a bloody party that never ends."

Dante hid a small smile behind his mug, cocking his head to the side in amusement. "Has anybody ever told you, you're a complete downer?"

"Yes. You. Every single day of my never ending life."

"Words of wisdom, my friend. Maybe you should take them in, instead of being so defensive."

"Oh, right, Patty's off right now, probably having a fivesome at some illegal cathouse somewhere and you say there's something wrong with me?" Nero scoffed once more, determinedly lifting the mug to his lips, because—seven bucks, what a waste.

"You sound jealous. That's…interesting. You're always so involved with the missions; everybody down at base thinks you're asexual."

Nero promptly started coughing, because what better way to fit the cliché atmosphere than comical surprise? It was one step away from a spit take. Jeaze. "I…wha-…hey! Why the fuck are you guys discussing my sex life?" He quickly placed the cup back down and waved his arms defensively. "Or lack thereof! Christ, do you all get off on this? I mean, Patty is expected. Lady…I wouldn't put anything past her. But, Credo, Trish, and Kyrie? And you?"

"Would you calm down?! We have bets on everybody's libido," He paused and laughed. "Or 'lack thereof.' It's just harmless kidding around. What else do you expect us to do on the days we have to be discreet?"

"Strategize? Train? Fucking think things through instead of simply going out and doing them? And—if these bets are going on, why haven't I heard any of this?"

"Do I seriously have to answer that?" Nero simply glared at Dante as they gathered their things and headed out, leaving two half full cups of coffee behind.

And for a moment, the strikingly pretty girl who'd been spacing out for the last hour and half, caught Nero's eyes at they last second. She smiled at him, red painted lips pulled up brightly. And it made him glad he got to see the places he did, got to sit in some odd café on some street he couldn't pronounce. Because not all experiences were bad, some memories were worth storing away. And…maybe he was glad Dante had been here to experience it with him as well.

"So, you're not asexual then?"

"The rest of you may see me as this guy that's only wrapped up in our missions—but I'm still a guy, that's the key word in that sentence. I'm not inhuman, I still have needs."

"So—"

"I swear to god, of you ask me if I've had sex before I will go back to that cafe, pay another seven bucks just to pour the entire thing down the back of your shirt."

"Your plan may have worked, had you not just confessed it me!" Dante was laughing then, running down the stone pathway, flying past a couple boutiques that had models standing in the front windows like mannequins, looking very unhappy.

Nero had no choice but take off after him, knowing Dante was almost freakishly good at getting lost. "Are you trying to get us stuck in the middle of nowhere?" Nero yelled as they ran past residential areas, quiet streets dimly lit only with the small street lamps at every corner.

"I'll only stop running if you catch me," He called back. "C'mon, let's see all that training put to good use!"

After that, neither of them cared about getting lost or any other silly worries. It was Paris for a night, just tonight, and nothing could dissipate that illusion, not even if they ran into a couple Swatters, haggling to see identification and their society colors.

And this was one of the many times Nero would wish the world could just be a world—instead of a prison.

Eventually they reached some large park where the trees were lit up with Christmas lights and there were obnoxiously romantic fountains scattered around. And once they reached the grassy area, Dante took the initiative to tackle him down onto the ground. He probably should have thought about it for at least a second before leaping up and attacking. But the smell of fresh bread and Cherry Clafoutis was wafting heavily through the air and he figured it was clouding their judgment a little.

Clouded or not, they both fell to the soft—slightly wet—grass in a heap, Nero immediately letting out a whine deep in his throat, squirming helplessly. "Was that really necessary?"

"You were trying to catch me."

"That doesn't mean that you had to fucking tackle me."

"Well, maybe you should be more clear then."

"Whatever. Would you get off? You're heavy."

"Not until you admit you're a loser face and I'm awesome."

"Come again?"

"You heard me."

"What I heard was a statement that a five year old child would make. What happened to Mr. 'always serious like he has a stick up his ass'?"

"I think you people focus way too much on what I'm doing. It's creepy."

"Would you just get off me?"

"Not until you admit it."

"You're serious."

"As a heart attack."

"Fine, you're a loser face and I'm awesome— What, that's what you told me to say, right?"

"I think I may just sit here all night, its quite comfortable."

"Fine, fine. I'm a loser face. And you're awesome." Dante rolled off, and as he did, Nero added, "Awesomely stupid."

Dante merely rolled his eyes with no answer; instead his eyes grew wide as he looked up at the brightly lit gazebo only a few feet away. Nero stood and followed is gaze, immediately drawn to it like a bug to bright light—the gazebo had many, so he figured the analogy wasn't too far off. So they both sat on the steps, heads slightly tipped back, shoulders nearly touching. "I think…I could've lived here, had the world not gone to shit—I could have been happy in a place like this." Dante murmured, admiring the—almost there—stars in the night sky.

"But—isn't it wrong to talk in could have's and what if's? There's been nothing else, even before Chancellor Sanctus. Every single goddamn attempt to make everybody on this planet the same has left nothing but misery and pain."

"That doesn't necessarily mean there's nothing left behind. I think what you do with the pain is the real defining factor. There's a difference in not being hopeful and being completely hopeless. And I've seen hopeless, kid—you aint it."

"I'd say that's by matter of opinion."

"Maybe. But, when you've seen the real deal, you kinda know the difference. See," Dante sighed, running a nervous hand through his tousled black and white hair. "My dad was taken away by a group of Swatters that were raiding our town, I was probably somewhere around seven or so. This was around the time when they were slowly morphing the right to freedom of religion to only Christianity by law and my father—he was a devout Catholic, a very religious and spiritual man. He was going about, trying to convince people not to switch religions and I guess the Swatters took this as a threat and took him away. And that was the last time I saw him. Everyday after that, everyday, my mom would ask me to pretend he was coming home. Just lie to her and say he'd be back soon. I haven't seen her since I was sixteen, but I think she still believes he's coming back. I used to think that's the definition of hopeful but now I'm starting to see it's the opposite."

And, Nero tries to come up with some response but his mind is oddly blank. He was about to try and spit out something comforting but he didn't think Dante was the type to take pity well. Instead he stupidly says, "Oh."

He wishes that he paid more attention to Dante's facial expressions in the past, because he cant exactly figureout what they mean right now. He looks a little confused, a little surprised, maybe even a little curious. Maybe he was expecting Nero to pity him. Or maybe he was just expecting something besides a simple 'oh.' They were having a moment and all and—

Wait, why are his eyes growing wide?

Nero blinks and notices that he'd been unconsciously leaning in, so much so that he could almost feel Dante's breath on his face. His brain gets muddled for a moment and he almost considers closing the distance like the action wouldn't be something outrageously fucking crazy. Instead he pulls back and blames the weird thought on the smell of French pastries, just like before.

"We should probably head back, it's getting late."

After that, it's just pure silence. Silence on the walk back. Silence on the drive back to the hotel. Silence as they got ready for bed. Just a deafening awkward silence that's almost made worse because Patty was off banging some faceless boy and not here to fill it. And to add to that fact, they're both sharing a bed. He thinks about maybe taking Patty's bed—she isn't here, after all—but decides against it because he'd rather not be shoved off in the middle of the night.

So, instead Nero simply scoots all the way over to the edge and slips his eyes shut as Dante idly flips through weird infomercials and French soap operas.

And as he drifted in and out of consciousness, he could've sworn he heard Dante murmur 'vous êtes belle' but he couldn't be sure.


	5. The Beginning to The End

Hope this makes up for my absence.

* * *

Unfortunately, That Wednesday morning, Nero didn't have the luxury of waking up far earlier than normal, like he had the previous day.

Actually, he happened to somehow sleep through his alarm—he wonders if he should buy a new one now—and ended up once again hurriedly pulling on whatever clothes he could find and running out the door in a haste.

Nero shared a car with his roommate, Matt, and usually he didn't mind him taking it to work in the morning, but today—today he was cursing the day that he ever thought walking to school was a good idea. Now he was jay walking (running) like the possibility of a car hitting him was blasphemous. And passerby's were flipping him off through their car windows calling him as many expletives that they could possibly think of. And his legs burned as he ran through campus—trying not to trip over students quietly studying all over the place—feeling that somehow this situation was reminiscent to tenth grade gym class which he had forged a doctor's note to get out of.

And when he finally managed to bolt into the classroom, trying to catch his breath and not die of embarrassment as everybody turned to look at him, he found that he only missed the first ten minutes. Luckily, this professor happened to be a lenient one (he'd heard horror stories about professors that locked their doors once class started) and let him take his seat quietly.

And who did he happen to find an empty seat behind? Yeah. Him. Merely looking at the back of his head sent him into near dreamland during class. Nero didn't understand these…what were they? Two nights in a row? That couldn't be some weird coincident. They were vivid, places he somehow recognized even though he's sure he's been there before. He didn't really think he could've gone to Paris and forgotten. And nothing really made sense, either. Chancellor Sanctus Missions? Society colors? What kind of subconscious would come up with such elaborate settings? He couldn't even remember really ever dreaming growing up at all, and now, two vividly suffocating dreams in a row? About some guy he'd just met? Nero felt uneasy.

He tried throughout the lesson to take notes, tried to listen as the Professor compared World War 3 strategies to modern video games. He tried his hardest not to zone out, but like he noticed before, merely looking at the back of Dante's head was making his memories all twisted.

* * *

They were both lounging in Dante's room back at headquarters, through all the commotion and 'missions' they went on, they still had plenty of days off to sit around and be themselves for once.

Nero was laying back on Dante's bed and Dante himself was half sprawled across the floor.

"Tell me something outrageous." Nero said, mostly to fill the comfortable silence.

"I'm part leprechaun."

"I meant something true."

"I've never been in love."

"…What a feminine thing to say."

"Yeah. That's what makes it outrageous. You weren't expecting it—that means I filled out my request."

"Touché."

"Nero, tell me something believable."

He considered it for a moment, then finally settled on, "This place is more a home than the one of was raised in. I don't even really remember what it looks like anymore."

"I think…maybe that isn't so bad."

"—Yoohoo! Anyone alive in there?"

And suddenly the world became reality again and the voice was no longer one that lived in his head. "…Huh?"

"Class's over man, I think you might have been spacing out hardcore."

"Oh. Yeah. I got a lot on my mind lately."

"Anything I can help you with? I know we just met and all, but what better way to get a friendship started than having a little moment—therapy sessions really bring people together."

"Um…nah, its fine, nothing I can't deal with. Anyways, I gotta meet up with a couple friends of mine; they're probably waiting for me. Catch you later?"

Dante really couldn't cover up his deflated expression. It was hard to hide his emotions around Nero. It'd always been that way. "Yeah, see-ya."

Nero swung his bookbag around his shoulders checked the missed calls on his phone on the way out. Though, somebody should put a warning label on texting while walking because he accidentally bumped into a ravenette girl standing outside the classroom door. "Oh! Sorry!"

He looked up and immediately reality dissipated again.

* * *

"Patty! Get the fuck out of my room before I stick my electroflexor so far up your ass you'll be shitting electricity for a fucking week!"

"Come on, baby, maybe I just wanna hang out with you?"

"I'd rather hang out with a pile of shit!"

"But—at least I'd be sexy to look at!"

Dante and Nero nearly jumped when they suddenly heard a loud squeal and then they broke out into laughter when Patty came running into the Commons with her hair completely sticking up.

* * *

The woman standing next to the man—the same one Dante was always with—waved a hand in Nero's face. "Uh oh. I think you broke him, Lady."

* * *

"That bitch fried me!" Patty shouted, nursing the near burn on her arm.

"Well, I think Lady's starting to get tired of you hitting on her twenty four seven."

"But—why does she gotta be such a PMSing bitch?"

Suddenly they heard Lady yell, "What the fuck did you just say?!"

And Patty was running like her life depended on it.

* * *

Nero shook his head, trying to fix his blurred vision.

Dante was next to them, staring at him like they should try and say something to calm him down. Fuck. He had to get out of here.

The blue eyed boy pushed past them and quickly sped walk down the hallway, looking for some place to sit down. Eventually he found a big oak tree with plenty of shade and few people around to disrupt the silence.

What the hell was happening to him? Is he going crazy? Losing his goddamn mind? How the hell is he remembering things that never happened to him?

"You sure run fast." Nero's head shot up, eyes going wide as Dante took a seat next to him. "Then again…you kinda always did, I guess."

"What…what the fuck are you talking about? What's happening to me?"

"…There's really no simple explanation. I don't know what to tell you. It's never happened like this before, usually you remember things on your own."

"Just…tell me the goddamn truth! I met you a few days ago and all of a sudden I'm having fucking dreams where we're in Paris? Why?"

"Paris…" He mused. "Funny that'd be the first thing you remember. I think that maybe that was the first time we kinda started realizing things, things between us."

"Excuse me?"

"Do you believe in past lives?" Dante asked suddenly, cocking his head to the side curiously.

Nero, however, was thrown off. "Past lives, as in…?"

"As in reincarnation, rebirth, metempsychosis—whatever the hell you wanna call it."

Honestly, he'd never given it much thought. It was something he'd only scarcely heard about in movies or read about in religious scriptures and myths. Was he implying that… That…

"You…"

Dante reached a tentative hand out carefully and placed it on his shoulder, as a soothing gesture. Instead, Nero's reality was once again violently ripped away and he was sure it felt like somebody had hit him over the head with a block of wood.

* * *

"Are you this grumpy every morning?"

"Only when I have to wake up at four AM."

"Well, next maybe you'll think twice about making me chase after you, we would've gotten back to the hotel earlier and you would've gotten more sleep."

"Can we just get this over with? And—where's Patty? Don't tell me she's going to bale again. Why does Trish even bother assigning her to missions if she's just gonna get drunk and probably forget her own name."

"Actually, she texted me around two and told me she'd meet us at the council building."

The two boys pulled on their coats and left the hotel room yawning. Paris didn't look as nice at four AM. Not. At. All. But, they had to do what the came here to do.

It wasn't exactly tedious but it helped if they didn't think too much about it.

As it turns out, Patty was there waiting for them when they arrived, eyes tinted pink, lips pulled into a Cheshire smirk. She handed them the detonators, and proceeded to go on about how great her night was as they inspected the set up and made sure all the bombs were in place.

"And the one with pink hair was swirling her tongue all—"

Him and Dante made sure the speakers were set up in the building across the street, ready to spew out Beethoven the moment the explosions hit.

"And then the other chick joined in and she kept saying something in French that sounded hot—"

And then, right when the clock ticked over into four thirty, all three of them calmly walked down the empty street, back to their car. And just as Patty was describing what her orgasm felt like, Nero pressed the remote he was holding and loud classical music filled the streets of Paris. Then as they slipped back into their car, Dante pushed the detonator.

All three drove off just as the sounds of explosion filled the cool morning air.

* * *

Nero jerked back violently, falling back onto the grass, away from Dante, before scrambling to his feet and running back to his apartment as quickly as possible, ignoring traffic signals and honking cars. Matt asked him if he was okay but he simply went straight into his room and locked the door, shakily taking a seat in the corner and curling up in a ball.

But, of course, right when his eyes slipped shut, he knew he'd lost. Because he couldn't run away now—sleep was no friend of his anymore.

* * *

Nero, Dante, and Patty made the long trip back to Maroon City, no hollow pods were needed this time—they were each content with sleeping the entire way instead.

And when they reached the headquarters it was a load off of each of their backs, to be back in familiarity, Nero himself had been living there for over a year and a half and he'd gotten used to the large gates and constant company as people came and went.

But, there was always the few that stayed, they made up the core group of the Freedom Fighters, each lounging around in the Commons—a large room set up with tables, adjoining the kitchen where everyone gathered to eat—just barely lingering at the end of dinner time. They were all sitting around one table, waving Nero, Dante, and Patty over, asking how their mission went and producing idle chatter.

At the table was a sassy, almost overtly feministic brunette, that had a bark worse than her bite. Her name was Lady and she didn't take kindly to pig headed men making her feel like a damsel in distress. Actually, she didn't really take kindly to anyone period and she spent most of her time training in the underground corridors. But, most of all she seemed to despise Patty above all else. Which—was easy to understand since she was constantly trying to seduce her and get in her pants.

Nero supposed—it was her funeral.

Next to her sat Virgil, skimming through a book while joining in the conversation every now and then. He had slightly long golden blond hair that was always sticking to his reading glasses. He was quiet but opinionated, always one to look at any given situation from a logical stand point and he helped maintain the security system set up in the lower corridors, handling most of the devices they used, like weaponry and their means of communication.

And across him sat Agnus and Dino, best friends practically adjoined at the hip, usually pulling pranks and causing trouble. Dino was a local scam artist of some sorts, she liked to go out to the city and set up nifty games that she'd cheat at—simply for the thrills. Agnus, however, wasn't much into cheap thrills; instead, he liked to set up pranks around the headquarters for unsuspecting refugees.

Apart—they were nothing but a nuisance. But together—they were really quite a team.

And lastly there was Trish, probably the least social of the bunch. She almost had this mysterious past that nobody could really figure out. From what they heard, she came from a very wealthy family down in Belmont City. She had a stunning appearance to go with the wealth, shining blond hair and big blue eyes, and there really didn't seem to be anything misplaced about her.

The others theorized different things, she wanted to rebel against her parents, maybe she had broken the laws—but nobody could really pin point what her deal was. He supposed—her past would remain a mystery.

And the eight of them made up the core group of the freedom fighters, not counting the two men that put the entire thing together, their leaders Credo and Kyrie.

"Would it kill one of you guys to do the dishes every once in awhile?" Trish grouched. "I feel like a fricken maid around here."

"Trish's right," Lady agreed. "You boys can stand up to tyranny but the second somebody utters the word chores around here you immediately run for the hills. What's the matter? Afraid the big bad dust bunnies are gonna get-cha?"

"I'm allergic to dust!" Dino protested.

"Yeah and I'm allergic to stupidity."

"Well, that must be a hard one to deal with, constantly having Patty around." Virgil added, smirking slightly as he peered up from his book. Said blond let out a 'hey' in protest and everybody at the table broke out into laughter.

Agnus waved his hands when he wheezing subsided, trying to draw a proper breath in. "But seriously guys, its those dam kids in the shelter wing. I think Kyrie. is in over her head, letting all these people stay here. At some point the Council is going to catch a drift of what's going on here and do something about it."

"They wouldn't dare set foot in Maroon City," Dante said firmly. Though, for some odd reason, the only thing Nero could focus on was the fact that their thighs were practically touching. "That would start an all out war. As much as the shit Chancellor Sanctus has caused, I'm sure he doesn't want more potential blood shed on his hands."

"I think you give that man too much credit." Lady stated coldly.

A silence suddenly hung over them, slightly awkward, slightly unnerving. They were all staying here for a reason. Something had gone wrong at some point. Someone had screwed up. Kyrie had been the one to really pick up the pieces.

And, as long as it was the eight of them, dysfunctional as they were, they supposed they really didn't mind.

* * *

Nero spent the next few weeks in utter solitude.

He'd attend classes, get his mail on occasion (where his parents were sending him money for his rent) and go back to his apartment and lock himself in his room for hours on end. It was unhealthy, yes, but he thought he might have been going crazy, so he figured it was okay.

And, most of all, he avoided Dante and his friends at all costs. He wouldn't even look the other boy's direction during Professor Keebler's class and probably would've dropped the class altogether, had the drop period not already passed.

After each class he'd rush out, racing through the cloud of students nervously, trying to block out the sound of his name being called and pursing footsteps behind him. This was too much to deal with at one time, his brain was having some freakish overload that was driving him to the brink.

Constantly he was remembering things, bits and pieces of some shadowed life he used to live.

* * *

Today had been Christmas Eve in the headquarters and nobody had been exactly sure how to celebrate it.

They probably could have done the clichéd thing, handed out presents, sang Christmas carols, ate obnoxiously big amounts of food and acted jolly. But, they had to help prepare the food for everybody who was staying as temporary guests in the main house and everybody who lived in the shelter wing. So, by the time everything was quiet and settled down, they were all lounging in the reckroom, exhausted.

Like wise, Nero didn't really have any money and therefore he couldn't really afford presents. Instead, he decided to turn in early and went back to his room to sleep in as late as he dam well pleased tomorrow.

Though, upon arriving, he found a small little wrapped up box sitting on his bed.

The boy picked it up curiously, reading the little tag with interest.

_I figured you could use a pick-me-up. _

–_Dante _

And inside he found a small picture they'd manage to take the day Dante, Nero, and Patty arrived in Paris.

He decided then that if anyone ever asked—he'd tell them it was his favorite place in the world.

* * *

They spent the late hours of New Years Eve on the roof of the headquarters, alleight of them, lying back watching the stars flicker. "Hey, Nero?" Dante murmured.

"Hm?"

"What's your favorite color?"

The tips of Dante's fingers played over the back of Nero's hand, causing his breath to hitch momentarily. When he recovered, he twisted his head slightly to look in Dante's gray eyes.

"Gray."

* * *

"I'm sorry; I don't celebrate Valentines Day, fucktard. Try again with some other girl, preferably one desperate enough to go out with you."

Nero and Dante peered around the corner, valentine's morning, watching as Patty was struck down by Lady once again. Over the last couple months, she'd begun talking about her more and more, begun toying with the idea of trying to seduce her. Nero and Dante burst into laughter upon hearing her intentions, sending her off with a giggled 'good luck with that.'

Now, they were watching as she attempted to ask her to be her valentine. Poor girl.

"But…look! I brought you flowers." She held out a bouquet of roses, adjusting the dorky tie around her neck nervously.

"I'm allergic."

"I thought you were only allergic to stupidity."

"Flowers cause stupidity."

"Come on, just one—"

The door was promptly slammed in her face.

* * *

They spent Easter in Germany.

Dante, Nero, Trish, and Lady were lounging the day before their mission in the lobby of their hotel. Nero had his head in Dante's lap, sprawled out across the couch they were occupying. Trish was sitting in a chair next to them, turning down some man who was currently hitting on her in a different langue.

Then all heads spun as Patty entered the lobby wearing white silk undergarments, bunny ears and a matching tail, coming to a stop in front of Lady . She held out a decorated egg to the stunned girl, smiling devilishly. "Seien sie meine liebe hase?"

Dante started cracking up. "Be my love bunny?"

Lady took the egg and threw it back in her face.

* * *

They always spent their summers like everybody else: in blistering heat.

Every single summer it seemed that the air conditioner would purposely blow out and leave them dying.

All the refugees were running around the corridors, kids of all ages playing games of ultimate tag in the headquarters. Kyrie never seemed to mind, she loved kids, her brother Credo, however, wasn't too pleased. The man scowled and yelled at a couple kids he'd almost tripped over, frowning quite intently.

Nero couldn't remember if he's ever seen him smile.

The teen was brought out of his thoughts then as Dante sprayed him with the hose. They were supposed to be tending to the plants out front, but neither disagreed that a little fun wouldn't hurt.

And a smile spread across Nero's face as he began chasing after him

* * *

Nero began piecing together everything dream after dream.

He'd physically be in reality but mentally—he was in Maroon city, dreaming about it, thinking about it. Wondering about it.

And gradually he began to loosen up as the fall weather drug in and October gave way. As the transition was made, Nero spent more time lounging around outside, day dreaming of another world.

Sometime into the afternoon, Nero was laying back in one of the many grassy areas with pleasant surrounding shade, watching as the clouds swirled in the sky. It was peaceful. He was content, closing his eyes momentarily to inhale deeply and smile.

That is, until he opened them again and found a pair of blue eyes staring back curiously.

The boy immediately stiffened, eye's growing wide. "…Patty…"

Said person grinned, plopping down on the grass comfortably. "Bingo, kid. I knew that noggin wasn't empty."

"Empty?"

"Yeah, dense, mentally incapacitated—whatever the hell you want to call it. Now I know you're just doing it on purpose."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh please, you never were good at acting dumb. You've been avoiding us—namely Dante. And that aint cool, I know remembering all this all at once might be scary, but you're lucky, you're not alone. You've got people around to let you know you're not crazy. Be grateful."

"Look—I'm sorry. It's just…my brain has been going haywire these last few weeks, every time I even see Dante its like my memories are all twisted and…and I'm just fucking confused."

"…About?"

"Everything."

"Well, I'm happy to be of service, if you need any clarification."

Nero flicked his fingers back and forth nervously, looking down at the grass, avoiding eye contact. "What…what were we—the Freedom Fighters—what were we?"

"We were a group dedicated to bringing back democracy and trying to fight against all the tyranny the world had seen."

"Was it just us? Were we standing alone?"

"No. Though, we were the first Freedom Fighters base. It started with Kyrie, the leader of the whole operation."

"...Kyrie" Nero mused. "I remember her."

"I should hope so, she took you in when you were a teenager and let you live at the headquarters with the rest of us. That's how we started out; she'd take in people that didn't have anywhere else to go."

"Nero, you'll be staying in the room next to Dante Sparta, he should show you around and let you know the rules." Kyrie smiled warmly, setting the teen's bag next to his plain white bed then waving him off before heading down the hall. "Oh!" She called. "And don't be too put off if he seems a little disgruntled. That's just how he is towards everyone."

Nero blinked a few times, looking down at his bed with a solemn expression. He ran away from home the minute his city was invaded and taken over, traveling to Maroon City where it was said the Swatters wouldn't dare enter. He'd felt safe, yes, but he had no money, no place to live. He'd been on a beat up couch in some smelly ally way when Kyrie found him and offered a warm place to sleep. At that point he figured his life really couldn't get much worse, so he decided to take up the stranger's offer.

"So, you're the newbie, huh?"

His head twisted, focusing on the tall figure leaning against his doorway. "Newbie?"

"Yeah, there are others the crazy old coot took in; you didn't think you were the only one, did you?"

"How many others?"

"Besides you and me, there's Patty, Lady , Agnus, Dino, Virgil, and just last month—Trish. Welcome to the family."

Family. He wasn't exactly sure if that word sat well with him.

"So…there were other bases?"

"Yeah, mostly underground operations. But, we were the start of it all—of the rebellion. Slowly but surely the entire world lost its freedom. Religion was outlawed to only Christianity. People were forced into being lead by one man: Chancellor Sanctus and he established the law that caused people to be divided by social class. Once you reached eighteen they assigned you to a certain color group and you had to stay there all your life and work for hardly anything, most of the time."

"But…none of us wore those things?"

"No. Our headquarters was in Maroon city, one of the biggest cities in the world, and one of the only one's that didn't follow any of the laws. Kyrie and Credo came from a powerful family that had a lot of wealth, but when both their parents died they really didn't have anyone else around for awhile, so Kyrie started by helping shelters and such until she found Dino sleeping—practically in a sewer—and kindly took him into his home. Credo was never too keen on the idea but Kyrie just liked to help people. And one by one she took us in and let us live on her large estate."

"Then…when did we go from charity cases to a terrorist group?"

"Terrorist group?" Patty snorted. "Hardly. We never actually hurt anybody. Our missions were to blow up important buildings, wreck prohibiting signs, or to go out and find people that need a place to go. We weren't assassins; we merely took the order of things and spun them out of control. Introduced a little anarchy."

"Well, it sounds to me like we were terrorizing."

Patty shrugged, "You have you opinions—I have mine. The fact is we helped people, Nero; it wasn't all blowing up buildings and running around in masks. People came and went to the headquarters, most people that stayed inside the manor never really stayed long. Eventually Kyrie had something built next to her and Credo 's house that conjoined and acted as a shelter. After that, a lot of the house was constantly modified. We had the Common's put in that had an assortment of tables where everybody would gather to get something to eat. Then, as we went on more and more missions, Kyrie thought it would be best to weave in underground corridors, that's where we trained or lifted weights or such, because we always had to be prepared to defend ourselves."

"And…how long did I stay there, with you guys, do you know? Did I spend my entire life as a Freedom Fighter?"

Patty shook his head, looking down at the grass, picking loose pieces out idly. "You stayed for three years, give or take. None of us stayed our…" He yanked a couple roots and scrunched them in his hand. "Whole lives."

"But…we were friends, while I was there, right?"

"Oh yeah. That much should be obvious from your resurfacing memories. Though, we were never as close as you and Dante were. Not by a long shot."

Nero thought about it for a moment. Looking down at the sun bleached grass, just barely covered by lingering shade. He thought about the question he really wanted to ask. Considered it. Then reconsidered it. Then decided he wanted to know. "And…me and Dante…what were we?"

Patty stood up abruptly, smiling down at the curious boy leaning against the big oak tree. She wiped the lose grass from her jeans, looking up at the sky for a moment. "Y'know, kid, I think I'm just gonna let you figure that one out for yourself. I'm sure the answer will resurface eventually." Patty did a half ass salute, "See-ya around."

And as Nero watched her retreating figure disappear off into the distance, he realized for the first time, that he was actually looking forward to drifting off into slumber that night.

* * *

That night, the hallways throughout the headquarters were abnormally quiet and the air around him felt suffocating.

Dante, Dino, Agnus, Lady, and even Andrew had been called to set out on a mission.

Nero and Trish had been left behind.

The two were disgruntled, spending the past week moping around, Nero especially. For some reason he felt slightly…empty. This was one of the first times Dante had gone without him and he was just now realizing how accustomed he'd become to the other boy's presence. He missed him. He really fucking did.

And in the dead of the warm nights, Nero would sneak into the room next to his and fall asleep in the not so foreign bed. The blinding white comforters smelled faintly of Dante's cologne and both pillows smelled like Dante's shampoo. And every night he'd spend a couple hours just inhaling the scent in, imagining gray eyes regarding him with lust and underlying want. Imagined heavy petting, deep breaths and touching—oh fuck, so much touching—and…and…

And there had to be something wrong with him.

But, at the moment, he could really care less. His hand had already dipped below the waist band of his pajama bottoms and he was already crying out like a cheap hooker. His entire body was on fire, the unoccupied hand started clutching the sheets as heat started to pool in the pit of his stomach.

His hand moved faster and he had to bite down on his bottom lip to keep from screaming.

All he could hear was Dante's voice in his head, whispering and panting and-

ah…

Oh fuck.

What the hell did he just do?

* * *

When Dante came back the following week, Nero couldn't even look him in the eye.

* * *

Shit, go the other way!

Dante turned the corner and Nero ran the other way, retreating down the hallway and into the reckroom where Trish was lounging in front of the TV. Footsteps could be heard and Nero dived behind the couch as a last ditch effort, curling his legs against his chest. "Hey Trish, have you seen Nero around, seems like he keeps disappearing."

Trish looked down at the huddled mess with curiosity, shaking her blond head when Nero looked back with pleading eyes. Dante sighed and the teen listened as his footsteps once again disappeared down the hallway.

Trish looked a combination between amused and intrigued, flipping through the channels idly. "You should just tell him how you feel."

Nero choked on his own spit. "Excuse me?"

"Don't play dumb. Personally, I thought you two had already been banging for the last year and a half and just didn't want anybody to know about it yet."

"What…what makes you think I like him? Him. Dante."

"Oh please, you make it too obvious, what with your sugar sweet smiles whenever he's around and how mopey you acted when he was gone—like a love sick puppy."

He felt his neck heat up with embarrassment. Was it that obvious? Even to Trish? He'd been trying to deny his feelings for awhile now but…what he'd done—it's clear that he liked the guy. Shit, he was fucking infatuated with him. Christ. "And?" He said in defeat. Trish looked pleased. "It doesn't mean anything."

"It means everything, kid; go tell him how you feel. It's totally obvious he'd been pining for you."

"But…that's…that kind of relationship is against the fucking law."

The blond snorted, stopping on a channel that had on some Italian movie with English subtitles. "I think we've broken the law enough. What's one more thing?"

"I…"

"Look," She sighed. "I was in the same position when I was sixteen, half in love with this girl who was my best friend. But her parents found out and my parents found out—they weren't going to have their perfect daughters be playing for the same team, no way—and they wanted to send us away to reform camp. My best friend stayed and I left. High tailed it out of there as quick as I could. But—sometimes I still wonder, and I don't want that to happen to you. So, tell him. Don't miss your chance at happiness."

Several hours later Nero was pacing in front of Dante's door.

Everybody had settled down by now and most of the residents were peacefully sleeping contently. All except one boy of course. One confused fucking boy.

Should I go in?

Should I knock?

What if he's asleep?

What if he rejects me?

What will happen then?

Goddamnit! Why can't he make up his mind?

He raised his shaky hand up to knock then pulled it back swiftly, planning to turn away and just go to bed. Though, of course fate would mess with him. Of course. Because right at the very moment, the door swung open and he came face to face with a very surprised, very shirtless, Dante. "…Nero?"

He considered just turning on his heal and running away like a chicken. Were he not frozen in place, maybe he would have. "Um…"

"I was planning on getting something drink. –and where have you been this past week? I feel like I've barely seen you since I've gotten back."

"Um…" Words. He couldn't remember how to form them.

"Are you okay? You're shaking." Nero glanced down at his wobbling knees. So he was. "Here," Dante took a hold of his wrist and pulled him into his room, gently pushing him down so Nero was sitting on his bed, looking slightly frightened. Gray eyes leaned in closely as he examined the face in front of him. "You look a little pale. Did…something happen?"

Again the words died on his tongue.

Too close. Too close! Oh god, back up! Back the fuck up! The proximity was intoxicating. All he could smell were Dante's shampoo and his toothpaste and even a hint of cologne still clinging to his torso. Oh god. Oh fuck.

"Cal—"

And that was it.

His resolve broke into tiny little pieces and he suddenly felt like he was standing on a dock waving as his sanity drifted away.

He pressed his lips against Dante's as hard as possible, feeling like a fire had ignited. What he didn't expect was for Dante to jerk back quickly, stumbling a few steps back.

For a moment they just stared at each other, gray eyes smoldering and unsure.

Then without warning Dante launched himself forward and kissed him.

Hard.

Lips melted together, hot and heavy and desperate. And both of Dante's hands were framed on Nero's jaw, petting his cheeks affectionately every now and again. Nero's hands, however, were buried in Dante's hair, pulling and tugging.

It was petulant to think he'd ever doubted any of this. They were kissing each other with the same intensity, same want.

It was also comforting to think that Dante wanted Nero just as much as Nero wanted Dante.

From then on everything was too hot and too little. They'd broken this forbidden dam and they weren't exactly sure how to close it, they didn't have any self control or any want for it.

Nero's shirt flew across the room and Dante shoved him back onto the bed, crawling onto of his half naked body, attaching his lips to the teen's neck.

Ah…

Hand's were roaming all over the place, heated touches leaving burning wakes in their path. And they were kissing again, opened mouthed, uncaring, hips grinding down into hips and clothes being discarded all over the place.

Until all that was left were sweaty indented sheets and a room bouncing with dirty echoes.

The next morning they both woke up with the sun filtering in through the window, casting a square of light on their naked bodies. Neither of them freaked out. Dante simply leaned forward and kissed the other on the cheek, smiling and wishing him a good morning.

He knew then—everything would be alright.

* * *

The next day after his Art of War class, Nero purposely hunted down the star of all his dreams. (And wet dreams, as of yesterday.)

He was sitting at one of the many stone benches, chatting with Patty and Lady , who looked over at him as he stomped up.

Gray eyes met his with a smile. "Hey—"

"You!" Nero interrupted, pointed his index finger accusingly. "We were together?"

Patty and Lady promptly started cracking up.

Blue eyes ignored them, standing his ground even has Dante got to his feet, still smiling, looking unfazed. "Well—yeah."

"We had sex?"

Again laughter was at an uproar causing them to sigh and start walking down the oddly silent hallways.

"Frequently." He answered, nonchalant.

"I…had sex," He mused. "With you."

"You sound surprised. What, are you suddenly straight this time around?"

"Well…no…"

"Then it really shouldn't bother you, mon ange."

"Don't call me that."

"Why? I used to call you that all the time. In fact—you thought it was endearing. French made you weak at the knees, even if you couldn't understand it worth shit."

"You're enjoying this." He accused.

"I do believe I don't know what you mean, mon ange."

"Yes you do. You're enjoying this! These are my goddamn memories we're talking about. Is this some kind of game to you?"

Dante stopped abruptly, suddenly cupping Nero's face, expression softening. "On the contrary, I'm being completely serious with you."

"What…" The shorter the two breathed. Funny, it was getting harder and harder to think straight. "What do you want to get out of this? Us, I mean."

"A chance." He answered honestly. "I think I deserve that much."

"Deserve?"

"Yeah. Talk to me when it all comes back to you, I think you'll understand by then. Oh and," Dante leaned in and pecked Nero's cheek gently. "Don't forget, I'm having a Halloween party. And I'm putting you down as a definite."

Slowly but surely the month of October was taken up by Nero remembering what it was like to be involved with Dante.

He'd dream at night and wake up smiling. He'd drift off in random intervals in the day, day dreaming about stolen kisses and crinkled sheets.

And he really couldn't help but feel like he was going through the relationship—personally.

* * *

It took a couple weeks before everybody gradually began to understand that they were together.

Actually, it took Patty walking in on them making out.

After that, everybody knew and kinda just shrugged it off.

Kyrie congratulated them.

Her brother Credo, ever the mysterious hermit, just scowled and ignored them.

Trish simply gave a curt nod that almost said 'good boy' or 'I told you so.'

Dino and Agnus didn't really care much—until people started threatening their sexuality, accusing them of having a secret relationship, then they became disgruntled.

Virgil gave them a list of homosexual love stories that were worth reading.

Lady said something snarky, ruffled Nero's hair and then proceeded to use 'my little fag' as an endearing term.

And Patty—Patty was surprising cool with it, for somebody who was so blatantly sexual. She merely stated that they should 'keep the kissy faces to a minimum' which they could understand.

And that was pretty much how everybody found out and they went on to refer to the other as 'boyfriend.'

End of story.

Or…the beginning to a completely new one.

Exactly two and a half months after they'd gotten together, Nero and Dante were awake at four AM, wandering around the headquarters, giggling. Today had been Patty's birthday and they may or may not have had too much to drink.

But then, when they entered the reckroom, they saw something completely disturbing.

The birthday girl and Lady were on the couch going at it wildly.

Completely naked.

It was clear the other two hadn't noticed their new visitors, because the brunette was still moaning and holding onto Patty's blonde hair. Oh god…

"What the fuck?!" Dante shouted, sobering slightly. He quickly covered his boyfriend's eyes in horror.

Lady screamed and fell off the couch all together, scrambling to find something to cover her pale body. "Its not what it looks like! I…I tripped!"

Patty snorted. "Yeah, she tripped and all our clothes fell off."

"You asshole!" She screeched.

Nero and Dante ran out of the room giggling, running down the halls yelling, "We know what Lady and Patty have been doing!"

* * *

Valentines day came again and this time they spent it in bed cuddling.

Dante did something ultra romantic and got together a heart shaped box of chocolates and a teddy that said 'be mine' across its stomach.

A fucking teddy bear.

The only point in the entire day that they bothered to put clothes on and get up is to see Patty get rejected first hand. Those two can pretend nothing happened and go back to cat and mouse but Dante and Nero knew better.

They peered around the corner just as Lady was going to accept Patty's Valentines proposal and lean in for a kiss. They both snickered, hissing 'I knew it.'

The brunette spotted them, threw the teddy bear in Patty's face and slammed the door.

The blond fell to her knees, looking over at them venomously. "Are you two trying to cockblock me?"

* * *

Missions were the hardest thing to adapt to as a couple.

Dante suddenly became much too over protective of his boyfriend whenever they were put in dangerous situations. And whenever something bad happened—he always blamed himself.

They'd been somewhere in Tokyo when Nero had gotten injured for the first time. They were being chased by a group of Swatters and the only option was to jump from the second story window.

Patty leapt first, falling straight into the bushes which were the key to landing safely. Dante quickly followed suit and hissed for his boyfriend to hurry up. Nero swallowed hard and sprung himself as hard as he could, launching onto the ground below.

Unfortunately, he'd just barely missed the bushes and landed on his foot wrong, snapping his ankle in half.

Dante had to carry him back to the car. And for the next few weeks he barely left the other's side, intent on nursing him back to health.

* * *

On their one year anniversary, Dante gave Nero a small glass heart and said it belonged to him.

It might not have been 'I love you' but he figured it didn't really matter.

* * *

Some days it was just lounging around, when they weren't out helping people; they'd sit around in the Commons and discuss this and that.

Virgil mentioned that something was going whack with the security system—that it was shutting off in random intervals. "There must be a glitch in the system. A huge chunk of memory is missing. I can't really pin point what's wrong."

Everybody at the table that day probably should have been paying more attention, shouldn't have been so focused on each other. Though, it wasn't their fault they didn't know.

It was the beginning to the end.


	6. The End

On the night before Halloween, he laid awake in bed, staring at the indents on the ceiling.

He wondered if it was normal to be in love with somebody he didn't really know. If it was normal to get lost in his dreams so often. It felt like he'd wake up tomorrow back in his old bed back at the headquarters and everybody would be there.

He knew…he knew he should be living in the presence but so much of his mind was living in the past—it was suffocating.

It was a story that needed an end, because he was watching on with avid interest.

* * *

Nero had a bad feeling about today.

He woke up and the entire building felt suffocating, the air conditioning was still fucked and his entire body was caked in sweat. Dante was next to him, hands encircled around his waist possessively, skin sticking to skin causing them both to over heat even more so than the others.

It felt like an omen, almost, like waking up in unbearable heat was trying to tell him something. But, the light was still shining down on both of them, illuminating Dante's face as a pair of gray eyes flashed open.

For a moment, his fears dissipated. Nothing could ever feel wrong around Dante. He left a sense of calming around Nero, encircling his inner fears with a halo of light and warmth.

But underneath the comfort, something was stewing and Nero just couldn't put his finger on what exactly it was.

"Babe," Dante murmured, tightening his arms around his boyfriend's waist when the other made an attempt to get up. "You don't have to get up yet. Today's mission free."

He smiled, considering for a moment just casting his fears aside and laying back in bed. The comforter snuggled underneath their tangled limbs was freshly washed and abnormally soft and comfortable, smelling faintly of detergent and febreeze. The sight of his boyfriend wrapped up around him, simply breathing their scents in, made his heart flutter was well. Three scraggly deep black hairs stuck to his sweaty forehead, adding to the bed-head effect, paired with a slightly sweaty torso that didn't really bother Nero all that much.

Though, the heat was still a problem and he'd like to get a shower in before they shut the water off, instead of waiting until after eleven o'clock again. So he lifted his body once again, this time successfully tearing himself away, mentally wincing at how hard the sweat stuck them together.

Dante grunted a few times in protested and Nero had to quickly jump back when two hands shot up prepared to pulled him back down, with much more force this time. Instead, the action made him fall back onto the green carpet, causing stormy gray eyes to finally open and said person to let out a loud irritated yawn. "Why exactly do we have to wake up at nine thirty on our day off?"

"No one said you had to get up," Nero protested, scrambling to his feet in annoyance. "And, I think you've gotten much too lazy, babe, remember when you used to wake up every morning at six? What happened to Mr. Responsibility?"

"Mr. Responsibly finally learned what sex was. Then he died."

Nero didn't dignify that with any kind of response. Partly because he was still annoyed. Partly because he was pleased. By now, they were starting to sound like the same thing.

"What, I get no good morning kiss?" Dante called as Nero made his way down the hallway.

"Where's my breakfast, woman? Then we'll talk!"

That was Patty's cue to jump out of nowhere and yell, "Whipped!" And that earned a few loud curses from Dante and a few scattered laughs in the Commons.

Nero couldn't help but feel everything was right. He shouldn't…he shouldn't even think that. Everything out there…he knew it was all wrong. But in here, in his own little world he'd been at for so long, everything just…fit.

When they entered the Commons, bowls of cereal were already scattered around the tables and countertops. Trish was working away at the stack of dishes piled in the sink, grunting about how nobody ever seemed to soak their plates before leaving them behind.

Dino was playing cards at one of the tables with Agnus, and from the looks of the cards peeking out of Jimmy's sleeves; he knew he was most likely cheating. Typical.

Virgil was sitting across from Lady, idly skimming a book. Patty took a seat next to him, probably intent on causing trouble. Lady herself didn't seem to notice either of them; she was busy tinkering with her electroflexor, looking deeply irritated.

Dante had taken advantage of Nero zoning out to sneak up behind him and wrap his arms around the other's waist. "Mmmm. I poured our cereal, now where's my kiss?" Nero turned quickly, kissed the tip of his nose and then stalked off to where their bowls were sitting. "Y'know, hard to get doesn't work after you've already gotten together." Dante grunted, following his boyfriend—and their breakfast—to Lady's table.

"Hey Lady, what's up with the over grown taser?" Patty questioned, causing the woman to glare for a short moment, probably imagining her utter and total death.

"That's the problem: I don't know. All the weapons have been acting funny lately, first it was suddenly spurting out bolts of electricity in the middle of nowhere and now the dam thing won't work at all. The same goes for all the other power generated weapons, which are our most vital pieces of defense. I tried talking to Kyrie about it but her and her brother have been so locked up in their rooms lately, having stupid hissy fights, I couldn't even get a word in."

"Maybe the power source is faulty?" Virgil suggested, looking up from his book with interest. "Didn't Agnus say he'd been fueling them at that old power plant in Belleview?"

"Could be," She agreed. "But it doesn't seem like the power source is the issue, rather the weapons themselves that are giving me problems. One minute the dam thing is shocking everyone within a ten mile radius and the next it just completely bums out."

"Did you check if maybe a few of the kids had gotten into the weapons room? They could've been tinkering around with a few of them and messed around with the power settings."

"As if," Patty snorted. "Those kids are dead scared of Lady; they wouldn't dare fool around with her precious weapons that make her so hot and bothered, let alone her orgasm enduing electroflexer. Anyways, I happen to know she sleeps with it at night."

"Oh fuck you, sleaze-ball."

"It'd be much more fun if you did it yourself, hunny. Come on, I know you think I'm sexy and I know you can't stop thinking about that wonderful night we had—" Patty was smacked over the head, promptly. And she smiled like it was actually something worth smiling about.

"Y'know," Dante murmured towards me. "I think they're almost beating us out for cutest couple in the headquarters. We gotta step our game."

Patty over heard, snorting loudly and obnoxiously. "Oh please, I'm much more cute than the both of you combined. There's no competition." At this, Lady actually looked up from her tinkering for a second, looking highly disgruntled. "…And you're not that bad either." She amended.

"You guys are like a married couple." Virgil shook his head, sticking his nose back into the book he was currently reading.

The rest of breakfast went by in idle chatter. Lady and Patty fought like sisters—were normal sisters were subjected to sexual tension—until she finally let out a sigh in frustration and went off towards the weapon's room. Patty trailed behind her.

Ten minutes later Agnus and Dino announced they were up for a game of darts in the reckroom and Dante decided to join them, swaying his hips seductively as he left, purposely trying to give Nero dirty thoughts.

Nero himself at that point decided he needed a shower, leaving behind a silent Virgil engrossed in his novel and a grunting Trish, scrubbing away at the never ending pile of dishes.

When he was washing away his worries, Nero felt like bursting into song and dance. Growing up, it felt like he never found any place he ever fit in, any place he ever really felt happy. He figured out early on that it wasn't the place—it was the people. It didn't matter where he was as long they accepted him. And they did, fully.

Out there—it felt like he was still wearing one the freedom masks, like the plastic was sticking to his face and the stupid thing made it hard for him to breath. But in here—it was like the stars were rattling, like the only color he ever had to wear was whatever the hell he happened to put on that day.

Everyday I have the power to wake up in Dante's arms, Nero thought, waking up everyday to too white sheets that smelled like fabric softener and a boyfriend that had no business looking so cute while sleeping peacefully.

Jesus, it was like the light had shot into his life and it was blinding.

And as he slipped out of the shower and pulled his clothes on, he started skipping around the bathroom, humming as he pretended he was at some extravagant ball with Dante, dancing. And nobody cared that they were both guys.

No, the only thing onlookers would feel was jealously. They would wish they had even a sliver close to the same thing.

And they'd both be dressed in tuxedos, better than the kind he saw that guy he saw in Paris they'd actually know how to dance, no half ass 'sorry I stepped on your toes' crap. And Dante would utter something romantic and Nero wouldn't say anything because he'd be breathless and…and…

And suddenly the sounds of screams pulled him out of his fantasyland.

* * *

Screams up above. Screams down below. Screams. And suddenly a huge rumble echoed throughout the headquarters and the entire place shook for a couple seconds.

His heart was beating quicker than Nero had ever thought it could, surely there had to be a limit at which point it'd give out.

He was clumsily flinging the door open, looking in horror as two kids ran down the corridor, screaming. Two men dressed in all black swat attire started rushing down as well, causing Nero to jump back and fall to the tiled floor in fear.

One of the men noticed and quickly abandoned the kids in favor of apprehending him instead. Nero didn't have anytime to think, he quickly leapt to his feet and grabbed a shaver off the counter, striking the man as he dove into the bathroom.

He was holding a fazestunner—one touch of the cool tip to his pale skin and he'd be on the floor in seconds with no chance to fight back.

The Swatter jabbed his weapon mercilessly, Causing Nero to duck and almost fall back onto the tiled floor again. Instead, he caught his balance and took advantage of his position to swipe the razor across the man's ankle as hard as he could. The Swatter cried out, swinging his fazestunner even more wildly than before.

Nero pulled a much larger shaver from the countertop, an electric razor, and jabbed the thing into the Swatter's stomach as hard as he possibly could, eye's stinging because he felt like fucking sobbing when the man in all black let out a blood curdling scream, falling back into the bathtub.

Immediately the body went limp and the fazestunner slipped from the lifeless fingers and hit the floor with a loud clang that was almost deafening in the terrifying silence.

What…what the fuck is happening?

More screams pierced the silence, making Nero jump. Whatever it was, he couldn't just stand here and wait.

The boy jumped into action, swiping the fazestunner off the floor and slowly tiptoeing out of the bathroom as discreetly as possible. There were a couple bodies lying around, some of the refugees that were staying in the warehouse, he recognized. They didn't look dead, rather, stunned, no doubt with the same weapon he was holding.

And, fuck, where was everybody?

The entire place was filled with smoke, harsh, thick—burning. His nostrils were on fire. Strike that, his whole body was on fire. The smoke made it hard to see as he crept down the blurred out hallway, on top of barely being able to breath.

He passed by Virgil's room, which was completely on fire. Luckily, nobody was in it. But, the entire hallway stilled smelled like death. Death—and blood.

Nero slowly peered his head into Common's, where he'd just been, not thirty minutes ago, laughing, joking, feeling this overwhelming contentment drag him down. Now, it looked like a war zone. Tables were flung all over the place, some scattered in fire, other's shielding nearby kids, trying to hide as the Swatters screamed orders into their walkie talkies. Half the kitchen was practically gone, he knew, he knew, an explosive was set off, just judging by the piece of fridge laying a couple feet away from him.

And, he nearly started sobbing when he spotted Trish lying on the ground next to one of the—barely there—counters. There was no doubt in his mind she was dead. Blood was pooled around her head, soaking her golden blond hair, tainting it. And a large piece of a plate was sticking blatantly and quite clearly from the side of her skull.

Oh god.

Oh fuck.

This…can't be happening. Was…Maroon City really being invaded? Was the main headquarters of the Freedom Fighters…being taken down?

Suddenly a hand shot up and covered his mouth, the other wrapped around his body, dragging him backwards as quickly as possible.

Fuck!

Nero flailed, fully prepared not to go down without a fight. He bit down on the hand, tasting the metallic immediately, causing the captor to jerk back with a harsh squeak. He took that opportunity to jerk his elbow back, trying to put force behind the blow, feeling like he needed to do it for Trish. She would have wanted him to take as many of the Swatters with him as possible. Though, the captor was abnormally quick, darting to the side fiercely. He growled, turning on his heel, raising the fazestunner, fully prepared to strike—

And then he came face to face with Lady.

Her facial expression…it almost made him vomit. He'd never seen her like this. Ever. She had blood caked on her face and soaked in her clothes. Her hair was no longer in its usually tight pony tail; it was pulled out in a disarray of frizz and pieces of what seemed to be furniture.

And worst of all, above all else: she was crying.

She looked, for the first time since Nero had met her, like a princess from a fairytale that needed to be saved. She looked at him like whatever the fuck was happening—couldn't be fixed. "Let's go." She squeaked. And he swore he felts his bones shiver, just for that horrible moment.

The both of them made their way towards the entry room because being in the underground stations seemed the safest. Maybe it was only natural, to feel the need to be in smaller spaces when a crisis hit. After all, life started out in a small, suffocating place, and it always ended in one as well. So, maybe it was the familiarity that made things comforting. Maybe it just always seemed safer being in the headquarters, deep within, rather than outside, where it always felt dark and unwelcoming.

Or maybe they just felt like hiding.

Lady shakily flipped the latch, trembling violently as she made her way down the ladder. Nero followed close behind, making sure to fully cover the entry way before hand.

He felt like saying something. Actually, he felt like saying several things. He couldn't help but think he should be soothing the redhead in some weird way. But, what could he possibly say that would ease her nerves. It isn't that bad? At least they have their lives? Everything will be alright?

No, he wouldn't lie.

Instead he opted for silence, because any comforting thing he could possibly say would sound deathly artificial and wrong. He wouldn't mean any of it. And if he did, a part of him still wouldn't believe it.

Then, they entered the underground weapon's room and suddenly it was like he could breathe again.

Because, there he was, nervously running a lone hand through his hair as he stared at the remaining guns in frustration. Gray eyes were focused and strained, his entire face looked haggard. But it was beauty and bliss and he figured he could ignore the large gash across his forehead, as long his heart beat still filled his ears like sweet lullabies.

He launched himself at the gray eyed boy, because the most coherent thought he could put together was: DanteDanteDanteDanteDante….

Nero collapsed at that moment, almost sobbing, trying to hold onto his boyfriend's waist like he'd suddenly fall out of existence. He didn't realize how much he'd been worried until that very moment. "Dante." He breathed.

"Hey, kid. How-ya holding up?" Then he leaned in close to his ear, hugging the boy tightly. "Fuck, you have no idea how worried I was about you. I almost fell apart, Nero. If they would've taken you from me, I would have blown this entire place to smithereens. I wouldn't've been able to fucking think straight."

The shorter of the two merely nodded, inhaling his boyfriend's scent like a drug addict looking for a fix. It was the only thing that blocked out the smell of death, still stuck inside his nose.

"What the fuck is going on?" Lady demanded, finally gaining back some fire in her voice.

And for the first time, Nero noticed Agnus sitting in the far corner of the room, trembling. "It was Credo," He answered, eyes darting from side to side. Again a drug addict analogy could be used, were Nero so inclined. "He…he fucking betrayed us. Kyrie.—Dino and I," He sucked in a sharp breath, looking ready to burst into tears. "We hid from the Swatters in the upstairs supply room. And he…he told us his brother sold everyone out. Everyone. He gave out our names, our specific whereabouts, crimes we were responsible for… He sold out most of the people we took in, gave out precise names for the people that'd broke the laws. And now the entire city is under siege. We…we have almost no weapons either…he…"

"He sabotaged them!" Lady growled. "I knew something wasn't right, something hasn't been right for the last few weeks. A huge chunk of data was corrupted, our fucking security cameras have been whacking out. I knew it."

"But, then, what are we all going to do?" Nero whispered, voice cracking. It was the question on everybody's mind.

"Well, I think we should start by rounding everybody up," Dante announced, still rubbing the smaller boy's back soothingly. "Then, well figure it out from there."

The room went silent. And this silence was not comforting at all. It was a dark silence, a choked one. One that symbolized mourning and loss. It was like bowing your head for an unknown statistic, a face pasted on the news.

Except these weren't statistics, they were people they'd seen everyday, people they could picture in their lives.

And shuddered to picture without.

"Dino was…shot," Agnus choked out, breath hitching involuntarily. "They're armed with fucking blitzerguns, they're shooting enough electricity to kill a full grown elephant."

"But…" Nero whispered. "The one I fought only had a fazestunner, it didn't seem like they were out to kill, rather, to stun us and drag us off."

"Kyrie made it clear; they're out to stun the refugees. But, their orders for catching one of us is to either paralyze us to the point that we couldn't physically fight back or…just fucking kill us any way possible."

Dante looked at the trembling blond. "Agnus, what happened to Kyrie?"

"They—they took her. She was still alive but—they took her. They were going to take us too but we ran and…and then they shot Dino in the leg with a fucking blitzergun and he fell to the floor and started convulsing. And that's when I started running again."

"Trish's dead." Nero announced, burying his face in Dante's warm chest.

"What about Patty and Virgil? Lady, I saw Patty following you towards the upstairs weaponry?"

"I…I don't know," She admitted, looking nearly broken once again. At this point, she couldn't hide the feelings written across her face. She really and truly loved him. "I knew she was following me and…I didn't mind, then all of a sudden, she shouted at me to look out and I jumped and narrowly missed one of the Swatters trying to stun me. She jumped on the guy and we started fighting him. Then another one came in and almost stunned Patty from behind but I tackled him to the floor. After that—everything is all jumbled up. There were a couple loud explosions and then suddenly everyone is rushing around, screaming, and—I don't know after that. I tried looking for her, but, she was gone, that's when I saw Nero skulking around and we decided to come down here." They felt good, knowing she wasn't dead—not for sure. Funny, they never thought they'd feel anything around the possibility of death. "What the fuck are we going to do, Dante?" Lady demanded. "We've been fucking invaded. We never thought this day would come—but it has. One of the only safe haven cities in the entire word and its going down in flames."

"We'll figure things out once we find the others, we can't just leave here without trying to save them."

"You think I don't want to save Patty?! Huh? But the question is: can I? Can we? We don't even know how many Swatters are out there, we could be walking into a deathtrap!"

"Well, if you don't want to try, leave then. But I'm going back and I'm going to look for them. I'm not saying anybody else has to come."

And Dante's calloused fingers ran through Nero's still partially damp hair as they continued to cling to each other, even in the heat of panic. And quickly Nero thinks: There's no other place he'd rather be. "I'm going too."

Dante looked down and his gray eyes were pleading, begging him not to, and that made all the difference in some twisted way.

He tried picking away at the similarities between 'I love you' and 'I don't want to lose you.' They were both selfish proclamations in some ways, people loved to be loved in return and you don't want be at loss because you'll be alone. He wished he could have both. He wished Dante would just say that he didn't want to lose him because he loved him.

"I…I have to help, I can't just leave knowing I could've done something." And Lady's statement cemented it; they were all going, because the risk of living life with 'what if' would be much more painful than losing life itself.

They brought along a few machetes and blades, hidden down in the very bottom of the supply closet, knowing that maybe they wouldn't be any chance against blitzerguns, but at least they'd do some damage.

Agnus followed silently behind, grabbing a machete and Nero couldn't help but notice the way his fingers tightened around the handle. He wondered if all those jokes they'd made about Agnus and Dino's 'relationship' had more truth than they originally thought. The thought alone made him clutch Dante's hand tighter as they stalked down the dark corridor.

And as they reached the entrance ladder, Dante kissed him softly and whispered, "vous êtes belle" against his slightly swollen lips.

It was like they'd been from hell to back, like all the volume in their life had been turned way up. It felt like goodbye. Nero didn't want it to feel like that. He wanted too white sheets that smelled like fabric softener. He wanted to wake up every morning and eat soggy cereal and hear Trish complain that nobody cleaned up after themselves. He wanted to help people and for Dante to tell him stupidly romantic things like vous êtes belle. And, god, wanted that fantasy, where they danced at ball and nobody cared. He wondered if he was asking too much out of life.

Maybe he was.

Dante kissed him one more time and then leaned back down, this time his lips brushed against his ear and whispered, "Je t'aime de tout mon coeur."

And that was it. They were climbing up the ladder before Nero's brain could comprehend the words, or at the very least—ask what the hell they meant. Hadn't they already established that he couldn't speak any other langue's (he had enough trouble keeping up with English as it was?)

But, he didn't really have much time to worry, Swatters were all over the place, carrying off kids—conscious or not—trashing the entire place they called their home for the last few years.

The four of them slipped down the now desolate hallways, trying to fan off the smoke that burned their noses. They'd somehow ended up back in the biggest room in the entire headquarters, the Commons, and again Dante couldn't help but think they'd just been here. Laughing. Joking. Smiling.

Now the only thing that stared back at them was Patty, on her knees in the middle of the chaos as a few Swatters pointed a blitzergun right to her head.

Lady couldn't help the loud terrified squeak that slipped out of her throat and suddenly all eyes in the room were on them. One the men started yelling things into his walkie talkie and Patty took that as his opportunity to hop to her feet—limping slightly because it looks like one of her were broken—and run away as fast as se could.

That's when all hell broke loose.

Swatters from all directions started charging, everybody went into disarray as they started swinging their weapons and dodging blitzer shots.

Immediately one of the men shot at Nero and he quickly jumped to the left and narrowly missed getting hit. Then another came from behind, swinging his Fazerstunner, aiming straight for the exposed neck. Nero doubled back and pierced the mans stomach with his machete, shoving the man into the wall, kicking up his right foot to rest against the man's legs and then yanking the weapon back out.

And before he could even get another second to breathe, another shot was fired, accidently hitting the man behind him instead when he ducked. He regained his balance quickly and grabbed the lifeless Swatter's blitzergun, whipping to shoot at the one that just missed him. A tiny piece of narrow metal shot right into the man's chest and a blast of electricity erupted inside of him, causing him to scream out and immediately fall to the floor.

Nero side stepped over the now convulsing man, shooting another tagline electric bullet at a Swatter that was about to sneak up and stun Dante.

His boyfriend turned his way, prepared to throw a smile of thanks, but the second his eyes met with Nero's—they went wide and glass. He quickly leapt up—as fast he possibly could—and shoved the blue eyed boy as hard as his sore arms would let him, causing Nero to violently fall back and bang his head against the wall.

And then three shots were fired by three nearby Swatters.

One tagline electric bullet went into Dante's left leg.

One went into his shoulder.

And one went straight into his chest.

And suddenly—all the volume in the world had been turned down and it felt like the entire world had just dropped out of existence. Dimly he could hear Patty screaming from across the room and the sounds of death were all around him, as well.

Then, as Dante dropped to his knees, sucking in one last breath, eyes completely trained on him, Nero's eyes started to slip shut.

And the last thing he saw before he was dragged into complete darkness, was Dante's limp, lifeless body, making contact with the cold, hard floor.

* * *

It wasn't until some odd hours later that he finally woke up again.

The smell of smoke hit him full on, once reality came back into focus. He coughed several times, blue eyes opening slowly and painfully.

The entire scene was blurred out and strange and he felt oddly comfortable with the taste of blood in his mouth. His head, however, was obnoxiously pounding, mixing with the dried blood crusted over his forehead.

Eventually all five senses started to function and cooperate with the rest of his body, causing his vision to focus on the bodies surrounding him and he realized he could hear something as well.

The sound of somebody crying.

Nero slowly sat up, clutching his head in pain when his vision started swirling again. He rubbed the large gash across the back of his head and winced, blinking a few times to recover.

Immediately he noticed there was only one person in the room besides himself, sitting with her knees clutched her chest. Her clothes were stained in blood, like somebody had accidentally spilled a pitcher of a cherry soda all over the place. Her blond hair—her hair was caked with blood and debris, swishing around as she rocked back in forth, sobbing.

Patty.

Nero never thought he'd see the day when optimistic, upbeat Patty would cry.

He realized now that he wished he never had to.

He shakily got back up to his feet and the blond looked over at him as he did—her red tinted eyes looked more out of place than anything Nero had ever seen in his life. And her blue eyes drifted over to a particular body, lying limp and lifeless and cold.

Blood was pooled around Lady's head, black haired splayed out. She looked much too peaceful for somebody that had died so violently, like she'd wake up at any moment and yell at Patty for not helping her up.

Nero almost broke down, just at the thought.

Then the blonde's gaze drifted to the body just a few inches from where she was sitting, sobbing deep within her chest when Nero's eyes fell on his boyfriend.

And at this, he did break down, he fell back to the floor and vomited, feeling the sting in his chest above all else.

"I tried to save them," Patty sobbed. "I'm sorry. I tried. I tried. I tried."

And Nero picked up the energy to drag himself over to his lover's body, feeling the lump in his throat pierce him like daggers. He felt like all the oxygen had left and now the only thing he could breathe in was poison. Deep, constricting poison.

He looked over at Dante when tears stung his eyes—his entire body stung—and tried to whisper before his speech became incoherent, "Je t'aime de tout mon Coeur."

Patty looked over at him, "I love you with all my heart." He murmured.

It took him a second to realize he wasn't saying it to him, he was telling him what it means.

And Nero's head fell onto the lifeless chest, listening to the deafening silence of where his heart should be beating. Where his blood should be flowing. Where Dante should be breathing, smiling, and whispering sweet nothing's in his boyfriend's ear.

I love you with all my heart.

* * *

Nero woke up and immediately ran to the bathroom and vomited, stomach heaving several times in protest.

He leaned again the cool metal bowl, pressing his forehead against the side as a sob wracked his chest.

Oh…god.

It was like hell had declared war on his head, he was hyperventilating, reminding himself over and over that Dante was alive. He was here.

Je t'aime de tout mon Coeur.

He heaved once more, flushing the bowl and standing to his feet quickly. Nero stuck a toothbrush in his mouth, staring into the mirror with a forlorn expression.

His face was pale and ghastly, the bags under his eyes had long since turned purple and sunken in. He realized…the story…his story…had been a tragic one. Love. Destruction. Death.

He died for you, he reminded himself, he fucking died for you!

He spit into the sink and put his hands on either side of the marble, letting another sob wrack his tiny frame. All he could think was DanteDanteDanteDante and he really didn't want to think about anything or anybody else. Ever. Again.

Nero spent the rest of his Saturday, calming himself down every ten or so minutes.

One second the image of the boy dying was flashing before his eyes and the next he was remind himself that he was still breathing. His heart was beating. He could still smile and whispered sweetly romantic things.

And…that was comforting. He wanted it. He really fucking wanted it.

And as the blue eyed boy left his house to the address Dante had given him some odd weeks ago, he didn't really care that his shirt was on backwards or that he wasn't even wearing a costume. He didn't care that he was flipped off several times on his drive over or that his roommate Matt had already asked if he could use the car that night.

All he really cared about was seeing Dante, seeing him smile.

And that's what he saw when he knocked on the front door and said boy answered, smiling wide and flashing his fake fangs.

Nero merely barged in and took a hold of his wrist, dragging him to the nearest bedroom as fast as possible, ignoring the weird looks he was getting from party goers.

Though, he did notice that among them were Patty, Lady, Trish, Agnus, Dino, and Virgil, each giving knowing smiles as they shoved through the crowd.

This must be fate.

A...second chance.

The shorter of the two lunged as the door shut, pressing his lips to the other's as hard as he possibly could, causing the fangs to drop between them and clatter to the floor.

He felt like crying, maybe, or possibly laughing at how things have changed in the last couple months. He wondered if anybody were to believe him if he told the actual story to how they met.

He figured…he really didn't care.

"Je t'aime de tout mon Coeur." He whispered when they broke away, causing gray eyes to light up and a smile to break across his beautiful face.

He wanted to keep that smile forever and never let it drift away.

Because, maybe this was all going fast. Maybe this entire thing was crazy. And perhaps he was doing everything backwards. But they had been given a second chance for a reason and he sure as hell wasn't going to let it slip by, twisted memories or not.

Love defies lifetimes.

The End.

* * *

I'm so so so sorry it's so late my laptop broke and I now have a new one but I lost most of the work I had on this last chapter. Plus, for some reason fanfiction wouldn't let me upload any documents. If this happens again I might move to another site I'm not sure which though or maybe I'll just post them on my tumblr. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!


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